


Bloodborne

by mysterytour



Series: Long Lost Fam [3]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Pietro Maximoff, Canon Bisexual Character, Charles is a good therapist, Coming Out, Dementia, Dudes supporting dudes, Erik is a Father, Erik is doing his best bless him, F/F, F/M, Gay Character, HIV/AIDS, Homophobia, Kurt is a cinnamon roll, Kurt is a good ally, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Civil Rights History, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Queer Themes, Sexuality, Unrequited Love, dadneto, the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 22:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytour/pseuds/mysterytour
Summary: The AIDS pandemic, and how it effects the lives of LGBT X-Men.





	Bloodborne

**Author's Note:**

> X-Mansion history is based the comic-book version, however, with changes to Jonas Graymalkin’s story.
> 
> Jean is 18 in 1984.
> 
> This fic is part of the Long Lost Fam series. All you need to know is that Erik knows he’s a Dad, and Kurt knows he's a son.
> 
>  
> 
> CW: LGBT phobia, AIDS, the closet, dementia, not especially explicit sex, swearing.

**December 1984**

 

 

‘THIS GIRL IS RAD—WHERE DID YOU FIND HER?’ Peter gestures at the DJ, a mutant woman in her thirties with a gigantic perm and bright purple eye shadow. She holds a pair of headphones to one ear as she bobs to the music, eyes on the deck. The smile on her face is so infectious that even Raven can’t help but mirror it’s shape. And Raven almost never smiles.

 

‘THROUGH A FRIEND.’ She shrugs. Raven is a natural liar, but this one falls flat on its face. Peter wonders what she’s hiding.

 

Ever since the school reopened Charles has held an annual dance for the older kids in the maquis, at the side of the building. Raven has morphed an electric purple dress with a lace up front for the occasion. She’s standing on the edge of the dance floor with her arms crossed, watching the kids. Raven doesn’t so much as tap her foot to the radio so it’s no surprise that she doesn’t dance.

 

Peter, on the other hand, most definitely dances. He wades onto the dance floor and finds Jean with Kurt. As soon as she sees him her eyes light up. Peter slips his hands around her waist, pulling her close.

 

Hank appears at their side almost instantaneously, ‘Let’s keep it family friendly, you two.’

 

Jean steps away with a guilty look. Peter doesn’t look guilty in the slightest.

 

‘You need to leave room for the Holy Ghost.’ Kurt says, grinning widely.

 

‘ _Ample_ room for the Holy Ghost.’ Hank tells them, ‘By the way, Kurt, you’re Mom’s on the phone.’

 

‘Aw—can I call her back?’

 

‘Sorry, kid.’

 

Looking disappointed, Kurt allows Hank to lead him away.

 

The DJ plays _Enjoy The Silence_.

 

‘That girl must be a telepath. She just gets me.’ Peter says to Jean.

 

Jean just shrugs, so he tells her in his brain, s l o w i n g his thoughts so she can understand them.

 

 _I love how much you love music._ She replies, in her head.

 

_Aw! You know, I miss the shit outta you when you’re at college._

 

_Then I guess you’re gonna have to come visit me!_

 

_Is that okay? I mean, I don’t wanna get in the way of the ‘college experience’._

 

_Sure it is. Call ahead and if I’m busy chugging kegs at frat parties I’ll let you know!_

 

_JEAN I thought you were a nice girl! What would your father say?_

 

Jean laughs out loud. Her eyes dance when she laughs. Then she has a spontaneous thought: _God damn, his smile is so cute!_

 

Peter stops leaving room for the Holy Ghost. The bass thumps through the floor and pounds in his chest and he looses himself in the beat and in Jean’s arms.

 

The next song is by Kraftwerk.

 

 _I’_ _m gonna_ _go find Kurt; he should be dancing to the music of his people._

 

‘Okay.’ Jean says out loud. Her fingers curl at the back of his neck.

 

Peter has to peel himself away from her.

 

In nanoseconds he’s searched the mansion and finds Kurt perched on the couch in the TV room. ‘Hey, Kurt, you’ve gotta…’ Peter stops when he sees the look on his face. ‘Are you okay, man?’

 

Kurt blinks slowly. He doesn’t look up. ‘Matthias died.’ he says, simply.

 

‘Oh...That sucks. What happened?’

 

‘Mutti wouldn’t say. Maybe there was an accident or...’ Kurt’s voice cracks.

 

Peter sits himself down on the other side of the couch and stares at the blank TV screen. Since he’s started getting to know Erik he’s got a lot better at this sort of thing. So he just sits with Kurt, for as long as he needs.

 

After a while Kurt scoots across the distance between them and puts his head on Peter’s shoulder.

 

Then he sobs.

 

Peter powers through the discomfort and pulls his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. ‘I know, I know.’ he says, over and over.

 

 

**1985**

 

 

**I**

 

 

Disease of blood, disease of sin; a plague from God, sent to wash away the scum from the face of the Earth. That’s what the man on the news says. Screams. Sweat flies from his hair as he shakes his head. His eyes are practically popping out of his head with hate. The camera pans across a roaring crowd, thousands strong, strewn with banners, adorned with terrible words in red and black paint.

 

The tension in the room is palpable. Kurt _—_ curled up in the armchair _—_ avoids looking at the television set or at anyone in the room. Jean glances at Peter out of the corner of her eye. They spend so much time in each other’s heads these days, but right now it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking. Has she noticed how much he’s sweating? He grips the armrest of the couch until his knuckles turn white.

 

In comes Raven. She only has to look at the TV for a few moments. ‘This is horse-shit; turn it off, Kurt.’ She snaps, ‘I said turn it off!’

 

Kurt scrambles for the remote and changes the channel as fast as he can.

 

‘I don’t want any of you watching this kind of garbage, do you understand?…’ Silence. ‘Answer me when I ask you a question!’

 

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

 

Raven slams the door behind her. She’s angry for the rest of the day, and then some.

 

 

**II**

 

 

‘Hey, Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?’

 

Peter lingers in the doorway of the office. Charles can always tell when it’s serious; he doesn’t have to search Peter’s mind when his face betrays it all. He’s never seen him look so worried.

 

‘Of course; come on in.’ Charles says, mustering his least threatening, warmest smile.

 

Peter closes the door and sits down without prompting.

 

‘What seems to be the problem?’ Charles asks, aware that the box of tissues on his desk is nearly empty. ‘Of course, anything you tell me will be in the strictest of confidence.’

 

Peter sobs and quickly covers his face with his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’ He manages to choke out.

 

‘There’s no need to apologise. Why don’t you tell me what’s been bothering you?’

 

‘I just… I don’t wanna to die.’

 

Charles out holds the box of tissues out and lets Peter take one. ‘Why do you think you’re going to die?’

 

‘You’ve been so good to me and everything on the news is so horrible I don’t want you to think…’

 

‘There’s nothing you could say to make me think less of you, I promise.’ Charles says, gently.

 

Peter balls up the tissue in his hand and sinks further into his seat. The tension in his body is obvious. His face has flushed. ‘Jesus Christ...’

 

Charles offers him another tissue. He takes it. ‘It’s quite alright, just take your time. Try and take a deep breath.’

 

‘Okay…’ Peter sighs, deeply, ‘a couple of years ago— this was before I got with Jean—I had sex with another man.’

 

‘I see.’ Charles keeps his tone flat, measured, free of judgement. ‘May I ask—did you use protection?’

 

Peter shakes his head. ‘I didn’t know that I needed to.’

 

‘And with Jean?’

 

‘Yeah—I always use a rubber with girls.’

 

‘Good. You understand now that you must always use them with all of your partners?’

 

‘Oh my God, this is the most embarrassing conversation I’ve ever had...’

 

‘It’s not easy to talk about such an intimate subject; you’re doing very well.’ Charles reassures him, ‘I don’t think you’re going to die, but it is important that you get yourself tested as soon as you can, either with Hank or a doctor off campus, if you’d prefer.’

 

‘Okay.’

 

Charles leans forward and tries to catch Peter’s eyes, but he fastidiously avoids his gaze. Charles wants to look away, too, but he has to keep trying. ‘Peter,’ He says, quietly, ‘it _is_ alright that you slept with a man.’

 

Peter shifts in his seat. ‘...It doesn’t feel alright.’

 

‘But it is. And in the future, if you want to be with man, again, that would be alright, too.’

 

‘I dunno why I’m like this. I like girls so why didn’t I just…’ Peter takes his jacket off, folds it once and places it on the desk. His eyes are red, still avoiding Charles’.

 

Charles persists, ‘I’ve seen inside the heads of a great many people; hundreds—thousands, perhaps, and do you know what I’ve learned? Some people have a preference for men, others for women, and some, for both men and women. It’s just one of those things.’

 

‘Really?’

 

‘It’s perfectly natural, just like having brown eyes or blue, or having the ability to run up walls, as the case may be.’

 

‘Alright... Sorry—I’m being such a pussy…’

 

‘In fact, you’re being very brave. I realise what’s happening right now is very frightening for you, but you don’t have to suffer through it alone. You can always talk to me, and I’m sure your friends would want to be there for you...’

 

‘I can’t. Not about this.’

 

‘They might surprise you. In any case, you certainly can to talk to me.’

 

‘Okay.’ Peter blows his nose and sits up. ‘Thanks, Professor.’

 

‘You’re more than welcome. I’ll go and get you a glass of water.’ Charles wheels around the desk and leaves the room. As soon as he’s in the corridor he takes a deep lungful of air. Right away he feels cooler, more inside his own body, but he can still feel his heart pounding hard in his chest. He takes his time making his way to the kitchen to give Peter time to collect himself. Or at least that’s what Charles tells himself. For the most part, it’s true.

 

 

**1986**

 

 

**I**

 

 

After an intense session in the Danger Room Raven is absolutely famished. She doesn’t bother getting changed or taking a shower, even though she can smell her own sweat, and heads to the kitchen. The refrigerator is well stocked with fruit and vegetables (Hank does most of the shopping) but she needs something immediate. She roots around and finds a tub of leftover lasagne at the back. Swinging the door shut, she notices Peter sitting at the table with his head in his hands, ‘Jesus,’ Raven says, bluntly, ‘who died?’

 

‘Ralph.’ Comes the muffled reply.

 

‘Oh, shit…’ Raven breathes, ‘why did I say that? I’m _so_ sorry, Peter.’ She leaves the lasagne on the worktop sits beside him. She’s seen enough grief and had enough of her own to know not to try and fill the silence, as Charles almost certainly would if he was here. For a while, Peter doesn’t say anything. Raven listens to faucet drip onto an overturned washing up bowl in the sink, notices that the clock on the wall is six minutes fast.

 

‘The funeral was a few weeks ago. No one knew until after… His mom said it was pneumonia.’

 

‘But it wasn’t pneumonia.’ This is a statement.

 

Peter shakes his head.

 

‘Was it AIDS?’

 

Peter fidgets. His face is still hidden. ‘She buried him in a goddamn closet.’

 

‘That fucking bitch… Can I ask—are you?’

 

‘Yeah.’ He says it quietly.

 

The word carries the weight of the same shame that Raven turned into anger decades ago. It propels her through life, motivating almost everything she does. When she sees it in others, in her friends, she can hardly bare it. So she decides to be brave: ‘you know my friend, the DJ? She’s not just my friend.’ she draws a breath and takes the plunge, ‘We’re in love. I’m bisexual, and I am _not_ ashamed of it.’

 

‘Oh… I think that’s what I am.’

 

‘We shouldn’t have to hide who we are.’ Raven takes off her disguise. She sits there in the kitchen, naked and blue and defiant in all her glory. ‘Whaddaya say? Queer, mutant, and proud.’

 

Peter and makes a noise. ‘Ralph would’ve liked you. It’s just… it could’ve been me, y’know?’

 

‘But it wasn’t. You’re still here.’ Raven thinks of her gay friends; some of them are already sick. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her appetite is long gone.

 

‘I’m scared.’ Peter tells her.

 

 _I’m scared, too_ , Raven thinks. She can’t bring herself to say it.

 

 

**II**

 

 

Everyone at Taco Bell knew that Ralph was gay; he didn’t even try to keep it a secret. Peter heard people talk shit about him long before he’d even met the guy. They talked shit about Peter, too, because he was a mutant and he pretended not to care, but of course, he did. As soon as they had a shift together there was a connection between them. Actually, it was chemistry, but Peter couldn’t possibly have admitted it to himself.

 

Ralph loved old, shitty Sci-fi movies and Peter had an extensive VHS collection, so it seemed natural when they started hanging out at his place after work. Eventually Ralph started coming over on their days off, too. Only when Peter’s mother was at work, of course.

 

Ralph wore his moustache like Freddie Mercury. He liked to talk about sex, which Peter found liberating. Ralph was the only person who ever asked him what it was like for him to be a mutant, to use his powers. Peter told him it was like a really big, fast rollercoaster, that he could get on as often, and for as long as he liked and left him giddy with euphoria every single time. The only other thing that gave him that kind of rush was stealing. Peter had never told anyone that before, but he felt that he could tell Ralph anything. But the thing he liked most about Ralph was how treated Nancy; he went upstairs to say ‘hi’ to her every time he came around; sometimes he even invited her to hang out with them in the basement. Peter had adored his little sister since the day she was born, and Ralph’s kindness meant everything to him.

 

Ralph was so great, and Peter liked him so much.

 

It happened on a rainy winter afternoon, when the two of them were curled up on the old couch Peter had found by the side of the road, watching _The Rocky Horror Picture Show (_ of all things). They forty minutes into the film when Ralph cleared his throat and moved across the seat.

 

Peter didn’t move to accommodate him. Ralph was practically sitting on his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Ralph was watching him. Intently.

 

Ralph moved even closer and lay a hand on Peter’s thigh. His fingernails traced the seem of his pants. The pressure was minute, but it was enough to solidify the scattered, inchoate feelings that Peter had repressed for so long, and their nature could no longer be denied. He wanted to run. And yet, he couldn’t.

 

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Ralph had said.

 

‘No.’ Peter had said.

 

Ralph paused the movie.

 

Their eyes met. Ralph’s gaze was like a blowtorch, but Peter couldn’t make himself look away. His heart hammered as if he’d run a hundred miles. He could hardly breathe.

 

Ralph pulled him into the crook of his arm, ever so gently, and lay him down onto the couch. And Peter let him.

 

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Ralph asked him, again. His breath smelled like stale coffee.

 

Peter shook his head.

 

And then Ralph kissed him. It was at once electrifying and terrifying. Peter’s head swam. He forgot that his mother’s shift would be over in less than an hour, and that Nancy was still upstairs in her bedroom. He liked kissing girls, but this was different in a good way. Ralph kissed him hard, with force and intent. His lips were rough, the coarseness of his moustache intoxicating. His body felt so soft and warm.

 

Ralph drew Peter closer. Kissed him more deeply.

 

‘I’ve never done this before.’ Peter said, breathlessly.

 

‘It’s alright, baby,’ Ralph murmured against his cheek, ‘tell me if you want to stop, or do something different.’

 

‘Don’t stop.’ Was all he could manage.

 

Ralph slipped his hand into Peter’s waistband.

 

Words deserted him.

 

 

Afterwards, Ralph grabbed the comforter from the bed and they lay under it together for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt so right. Peter listened to the gentle thump of Ralph’s heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his chest under his cheek. He let the feeling of closeness and how much he liked Ralph wash over him. Everything else melted away. There was no fear or shame or confusion. Why couldn’t it always be this simple?

 

The front door slammed.

 

Peter’s eyes snapped open. The good, calm, feeling was gone in seconds. ‘Shit—that’s my mom!’ He hissed, scrambling for his pants.

 

‘It’s okay, I won’t let her see me.’ Ralph tried to reassure him, pulling his shirt over his head.

 

‘Shitshitshit—what if Nancy heard?’

 

‘Nancy’s cool, she won’t say anything. Don’t worry, baby, everything’s gonna be—’

 

‘Don’t call me that!’

 

Ralph started buttoning his fly. The hurt in his eyes quickly turned to anger, ‘you know what, Pete? If you stay in that closet much longer you’ll suffocate.’

 

The words cut Peter deeply, but of course Ralph was right. He left him at the end of the street and was back in the basement in nanoseconds. His mother would never know.He turned the television off and curled up on the couch, alone, missing Ralph’s warmth, wishing he didn’t feel the way that he did.

 

The next time Peter saw him at work he treated him like an acquaintance. He didn’t know which he was ashamed of more: the disappointment in Ralph’s eyes, or what they’d done together.

 

 

**III**

 

 

That night, Nancy and Wanda turn up at Peter’s door unannounced with a take-out Pizza. The fact that they have shown up together is A Big Deal, since the two of them have never been close.

 

‘We heard about Ralph.’ Wanda announces, pushing past him and setting the box down on the bed.

 

‘One of his friends called the house. His Mom’s spreading some bullshit about pneumonia.’ Nancy explains, throwing herself down beside Wanda. The pair of them get started on the pizza.

 

‘We know you’re into guys.’ Wanda adds, picking the pepperoni off her slice because she always eats the topping first, followed by the cheese, then bread and finally the crust. It used to annoy the crap out of Peter, back when they still lived together. Now, he finds it strangely comforting.

 

‘How long?’ He asks her, impotently.

 

‘Always, dumbass. We’re twins, you can’t hide shit from me.’

 

‘If you waited for me to leave the house before fucking him, I’d never’ve have guessed.’ Nancy says, ‘How are you?’

 

‘Sad, but glad you brought pizza.’ Peter sits down next to her and squeezes her shoulders.

 

‘Just this once you can have my crusts.’ Wanda says, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

 

‘Thanks a _lot_.’ Peter takes a slice. ‘I really screwed things up with him. I just couldn’t deal with it, you know?’

 

Nancy rubs his elbow, sympathetically, ‘I’m sure he understood.’

 

‘I wish I’d had the guts to… I dunno.’

 

‘I’m sure he understood.’ She repeats.

 

‘He was such a good guy.’

 

Nancy nods, crunching on a piece of crust. ‘He was really nice.’

 

Peter looks like he’s in pain. ‘I liked him _so_ much.’

 

‘I know you did.’

 

The three of them devour the pizza together, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

 

 

**IV**

 

 

Jean gets off the train with her hair in knots, looking exhausted. Peter greets her with a kiss, and they’re home in seconds.

 

‘So I found out my friend died a couple of weeks ago.’ He tells her, as soon as she’s taken her shoes off. ‘It was AIDS.’

 

‘Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry.’ Jean says, her eyes full of sorrow.She hugs him tenderly.

 

‘Actually, that’s not true. He wasn’t _just_ a friend.’ Peter takes a deep breath. He can’t bring himself to look at her. ‘We slept together.’

 

Jean contemplates this for a moment. Then she nods. ‘I know.’

 

‘You do?’

 

‘After all the time we spend hanging out in each other’s brains—yeah, I know all about Ralph. You cared about him a lot, didn’t you?’ There is no judgement in her eyes—only love.

 

‘I really did.’ He says, feeling so much lighter. ‘Just so you know I got tested, and I’m negative.’

 

‘Thank you for telling me.’ Jean wraps her arms around his neck and holds him close. Her eyelashes tickle his cheek.

 

‘I love you, Jean. I missed you so much.’

 

‘I love you, too. So much.’

 

Peter lays it all bare in his mind for Jean to see: the aching shame that still lies heavily upon him, the like (or love?) that he had for Ralph, and the sorrow and regret...

 

Then, Jean adds, ‘don’t you ever be ashamed. There’s nothing wrong with you.’

 

She shows him the contents of her heart, and they dissolve into one another.

 

They make love with gentleness and intensity.

 

Peter knows he’s going to marry her one day.

 

 

**V**

 

 

Before she learned to control her powers, Jean caught glimpses of Ralph here and there. From the very first time she saw him she knew exactly what he meant to Peter; she felt his feelings for him as keenly as if they were her own. It happens more frequently since he died, even though nowadays she only reads Peter’s mind when he wants it.

 

She knows how his eyes sparked when he talked about his favourite movies and old lovers, the texture of his lips... There are other, more personal sensations, too; those she tries to put out of her mind because they’re not for her to feel.

 

Conversations come in bits, paraphrased by the flaws of human memory. All these the pieces come together in Jean’s mind to form a picture of Ralph, not as he was, but how he was to Peter. Usually she tries not to dwell on the memories other people leave lying around in her head, but when it comes to Ralph her curiosity gets the better of her. She wants to know him, so she immerses herself in his fragments, searches for details.

 

Every last memory is tinged with regret. Hindsight can be a terrible thing.

 

One night, they’re lying in each other’s arms and brains in Jean’s dorm room, and she asks Peter tell her about him.

 

‘Alright. What do you wanna know?’ He says. Nervousness rises out of him in waves. Jean tries to quell it with the stillness of her own mind. It works, a little.

 

‘I dunno—what did you like about him?’

 

‘I guess...’ Peter searches for the words, ‘I felt seen, y’know?’

 

‘I think so.’

 

‘He was really sweet. Especially for a guy... Did you know he on me right in the middle of _Rocky Horror_?’

 

A smile pulls on the corners of Jean’s mouth. She struggles to suppress it.

 

‘It’s okay, you can laugh.’

 

She does. ‘Of all things? That is extremely...’

 

‘Gay?’

 

‘I was going to say...’ _Extremely gay._ ‘Bold.’

 

 _I heard that_. ‘He certainly was that... and funny, too. He used to crack me up, y’know?’

 

‘Yeah.’

 

_I miss him._

 

Some things are easier to say out loud than others.

 

 

 

**1987**

 

 

**I**

 

 

On the anniversary of Ralph’s death Nancy and Peter take flowers to his grave. The weather is perfect. It feels wrong to be standing in the sunshine on a day like this. The headstone is simple: name, date of birth, date of death. There’s nothing about the person he was or the ones he left behind. Nancy has one arm around Peter’s waste. In her free hand: lavender from the garden.

 

A young man with dark eyes and dark, curly hair, joins them at the graveside, a bunch of roses in his hands. Peter lets himself think it: _he’s handsome_.

 

‘Did you know him?’ He asks Nancy and Peter.

 

‘Yeah.’ Peter says.

 

‘I’m Jon. I was his boyfriend.’

 

‘Sorry for your loss, man. He was a special guy.’

 

‘He was.’

 

‘I’m Pete. Nancy is my sister.’

 

Nancy steps forward and shakes Jon’s hand. There’s a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. ‘Peter and Nancy Maximoff?’

 

‘Yeah.’

 

‘Ralph told me about you. He was fond of you both.’

 

‘He shouldn’t have been.’ Peter scratches the back of his neck, ‘I kinda cut things off with him in a bad way.’

 

‘We’ve all been in the closet.’ Jon says. He kneels and places the roses against the headstone. Nancy follows suit with her lavender. ‘I should have been with him in the hospital when it happened...his mom wouldn’t let me see him. She hadn’t even talked to him in years. It just—doesn’t make any sense. I loved him so much.’

 

‘I’m sorry, man. It’s not right.’

 

‘I bet she doesn’t even come today.’ Jon gets up and stares at the headstone. Peter almost lays a hand on his shoulder.

 

 

Afterwards they get coffee and talk for hours about Ralph. How much he liked Sci-fi B movies. Jon hated those movies. Peter loved them.

 

Ralph had beautiful eyes. They can agree on that.

 

And Nancy just listens, even though she knew Ralph, too, and surely has stories of her own. Just speaking these things out loud, in front of his sister makes Peter feel like a person.

 

Jon is great. Of course he is: he was with Ralph.

 

 

**II**

 

 

Jon has it, too.

 

 

**III**

 

 

Kurt slams the telephone down. He’s never been angry with his mother, before, but right now he’s practically trembling with fury. He used to think she was always right, especially in matters of spirituality. But she isn’t. This time, she’s upsettingly wrong.

 

The things she said about Matthias still burn in his ears. Kurt wants to punch something. He tries going for a walk to cool off but it doesn’t do the trick, so he goes to the place he always goes when he needs someone to talk to.

 

Kurt knocks on the door of Peter’s apartment and waits. He answers in his underwear, bleary eyed. The curtains are drawn.

 

‘Oh, I’m sorry—were you asleep?’ Kurt says, wide-eyed and apologetic.

 

‘We got back at like two o’ clock this morning. What’s up?’

 

‘I don’t want to be any bother…’

 

‘I can tell something’s bothering you. Come in, pal.’ Peter steps aside and gives Kurt a little push through the door.

 

Kurt’s tail flicks nervously behind him. ‘I found out that Matthias died of AIDS.’

 

‘Aw, I’m sorry, dude. That’s terrible.’

 

‘And Mutti kept saying that he deserved it. That God punished him for living a sinful life.’

 

‘Is that what you believe?’ Peter asks, carefully.

 

‘Absolutely not! God is loving; I don’t believe he punishes people in this world. Matthias was a good person and he didn’t deserve to die. I think it’s just…’ Kurt shrugs, helplessly, ‘a horrible disease.’

 

‘I had a boyfriend who died of it.’ Peter says, because it’s the simplest way of putting it.

 

Kurt responds by giving him a hug. ‘I’m sorry about your boyfriend.’

 

‘I’m sorry about Matthias and your Mom being a bitch.’ Peter says. He wonders why he ever doubted his friend.

 

Kurt remembers how Matthias used to take care of him when he was little, when his mother was busy running the circus. He taught him how to juggle with patience and persistence. He did his first handstand with Matthias holding his ankles. Letters from Matthias are still jumbled up in a box under his bed. Kurt wonders what Margali did with all the letters Kurt sent to _him_. Perhaps they’re still in his trailer, although, it isn’t even his trailer anymore. ‘I hate AIDS.’ He sighs.

 

Peter rubs his back, ‘I know, man. I hate it, too.’

 

 

**1988**

 

 

**I**

 

 

Raven and Irene are finally moving in together. By now it’s an open secret; she’s sure that all of the X-Men know, even though she only speaks openly about it to Peter. Hank, of course, is oblivious.

 

She’s back at the mansion, collecting the last of her things, when Kurt knocks on her door. Raven greets him with a kiss on the cheek, because she really is like his mother these days.

 

‘Mom, can I move in with you?’ Kurt asks, sheepishly.

 

His big, wide eyes melt her heart. They always do. ‘Of course you can, sweetie. Is there... any particular reason for you wanting to?’

 

‘I don’t want to live at work any more. I want to live with you and Irene.’

 

‘Okay.’ Raven says, thoughtfully, ‘You understand why we’re moving in together, don’t you?’

 

‘I think so.’ And then he adds, ‘I really like her. She seems to make you happy.’

 

Raven smiles, ‘She does. You make me happy, too.’

 

 

Raven comes to pick up Kurt’s belongings that Thursday. He’s accumulated surprisingly little in the three years he’s been living in America, and it doesn’t take long to pack it all into Raven’s beat up old Chevy. On the drive back to the new house _Open Your Heart_ plays over the radio. Before Irene, Raven had very little interest music; now she lives in a house overflowing with records and a Madonna poster taped to the bathroom door. Wind rushes through the open windows and across Raven’s face and arms. She smiles, and cranks up the volume.

 

Everything is finally falling into place.

 

 

**1987**

 

 

**I**

 

 

The call comes from Jon’s boyfriend. Peter has known it was coming for years, but the news still knocks the wind out of him.

 

 

**II**

 

 

‘I buried my friend, Jon, today.’ Peter tells his father as soon as he opens the door.

 

‘Oh—I’m sorry.’ Erik blinks, ‘Not a close friend?’

 

‘Not really… I mean, we used to see each other a lot, I guess.’

 

Erik hugs his son and shepherds him into the kitchen. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when he died?’

 

‘I dunno, I guess… he died of AIDS.’

 

‘Terrible disease.’ Erik says, shaking his head.

 

He starts making a pot of tea. They communicate through food and beverages more naturally than they do with words. He’s been in this apartment in Hell’s Kitchen for nearly seven years. Under a fake name, of course. The community is diverse and close knit, and it seems to suit him well. There are people like him: people with fading serial numbers etched into their forearms, hidden under sleeves; people whose abilities and bodies are designated a ‘political issue’. Everything about the flat suits him, too, from the rickety orange kitchen cupboards that were manufactured back in the sixties to the second hand table and chairs. He prefers to fix things rather than replace them. Peter can’t fix anything.

 

‘Hey Dad, can I have mine in the kitty mug?’ Peter asks him.

 

‘Of course you may.’ Erik sets the tea things down on the table and pushes the mug with the picture of a brown tabby cat in it towards Peter.

 

‘Can I have sugar?’ Peter asks, pouring out his tea.

 

‘You’re the last person who needs a sugar rush.’ Erik tells him, firmly.

 

‘Jeez, Dad, I’m thirty years old; I can have sugar if I want!’

 

‘It’s not very good for you.’ Erik sits down and starts drinking his tea.

 

They don’t argue often, but Peter secretly enjoys it. It makes them feel like a family. He changes the subject back to Jon, ‘It sucked pretty hard. His boyfriend, like, full on wailed… that wasn’t easy to see.’ Using the word _boyfriend_ in front of his father feels dangerous and bold. Peter holds his breath and waits for his father to respond.

 

‘I imagine not.’ Erik reaches across the table and squeezes Peter’s hand. ‘I’m sorry about Jon. You know I wouldn’t look down on your friends because of who they are, don’t you?’

 

‘Yeah. Sure.’ Peter looks at his mug.

 

‘We are mutants, after all.’

 

They drink their tea in silence. Erik keeps looking at Peter but he won’t return his gaze. The words hover on the tip of his tongue but refuse to come out. He doesn’t ask any of the questions Peter wants him to ask. He has a secret of his own.

 

 

**1989**

 

 

**I**

 

 

‘They’re not looking for a cure. They want us to die.’ Raven’s fingers curl around the glass of water she poured for herself half an hour ago, but hasn’t even begun to drink. Anger bubbles up inside her. They’re alone in the kitchen, and Peter is wearing black, again. ‘I think we should go to the protest. We have to do _something_.’

 

Peter stays silent.

 

‘What?’

 

‘What if someone sees us?’ He says, quietly.

 

‘Let them. Aren’t you tired of living in a closet?’

 

‘You know what, Raven?’ Peter snaps. His hands make fists against the tabletop, ‘I’m tired of telling Mom everything’s fine when my friends are literally dying because I know what she’ll say. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not every God damn day of my life… So yeah—actually, I’m _exhausted_.’

 

‘Okay—I was outta line.’ Raven hangs her head. ‘We shouldn’t have to make ourselves invisible just to stay safe.’

 

‘But we do, have to. That’s why you don’t go blue in public. Or hold your girlfriend’s hand.’

 

Raven crosses and uncrosses her legs. She scratches the back of her hand. Every time she leaves the mansion she hides behind pink skin; it used to feel like armour, but these days it just feels like a prison. ‘You’re right. Of course you are—but I’ve done a lot of shit in my life because _someone_ had to do it and I’m not gonna stop now. I’m going blue and I’m gonna do it holding my girlfriend’s hand.’

 

‘I’ll come.’ Peter decides, ‘For Ralph and Jon and everybody.’

 

 

Kurt insists on coming with them, for Matthias, so the four of them take the subway into town together. Raven wears rainbow dungarees she found in a thrift shop, and her blue skin that earns her open-mouthed stares from everyone in the carriage. She isn’t afraid to stare back.

 

 

Hand in hand with Irene and Peter, Raven feels like she’s on fire, like she’s back in Cairo sweeping a blade across the throat of En Sabah Nur, like she’s standing up to a thousand corrupt and powerful men (of course, she is, just less directly than she’s accustomed to); when the chant starts up she screams it until her throat smarts:

 

‘Act up

Fight back

Fight AIDS!’

 

When Peter finally joins in Kurt grabs his free hand; it gives him the courage to shout.

 

Irene holds the placard:

 

**LGBT**

rights

**MUTANT**

rights

**NOW!**

 

Raven has never been more proud.

 

 

**II**

 

 

9th November 1989: this is the day the Berlin wall comes down.

 

The X-Men watch it all unfold on a staticky black and white TV set in a mutant bar in Queen’s. Everyone hugs and kisses Kurt, who shakes with shock and excitement. Even Peter, who doesn’t even kiss his mother and just about tolerates kisses from his father because he’s European. They stay until the bar closes at 3am, and go in search of pizza. By the time they’ve found the grubby twenty-four hour pizzeria they’re much too hungry to think twice about the state of the place. Kurt tells the man at the till and the girl cleaning the tables and everyone standing in line what’s happening in Germany.

 

It’s dawn by the time they get back to the mansion. Scott and Ororo go straight to their beds. The remainders, Kurt, Jean and Peter decide it’s time for breakfast. They find Hank in the kitchen, boiling carrots, for reasons only known to him.

 

‘The Berlin wall is coming down!’ Kurt tells him, excitedly.

 

 

That summer, Kurt goes home to take part in the festivities. Margali arranges a special show that sells out less than an hour after the box office opens. Kurt performs with his mother’s circus one last time. Afterwards they go to town and get thoroughly trashed on German ale. Amanda takes a photo of Kurt perched on the rubble, doing a particularly complicated trick with his Diablo (because no self respecting circus performer would go out drinking without their Diablo or juggling balls at the very least). _Winds Of Change_ by The Scorpions always takes him back those long, warm summer months. Never before has he felt such joy or such hope, before or since, but he can’t get the thought out of his head: _Matthias should be here, too._

 

 

**III**

 

 

Irene goes to work at Roxy on West 18th and comes home with a new friend. Raven is initially furious to be woken by a tipsy Irene at two o’clock in the morning, but it all changes when she meets Jean-Paul. He’s a mutant rights and LGBT activist, like them. Before she knows it she’s pouring red wine for the three of them in her dressing gown and trying to talk Jean-Paul into joining the X-Men.

 

Irene puts on a David Bowie record. They talk all night. By morning Jean-Paul has made his decision.

 

 

**1990**

 

 

**I**

 

 

Raven knocks on the door of Charles’ office and lets herself in without waiting for a response. ‘Hey, Charles. I’m starting a group for the LGBT kids. Just thought I’d let you know.’ She tells him, brusquely.

 

It takes Charles a few moments to take it all in. ‘Alright.’ he says, thoughtfully, ‘That’s an excellent idea. Of course there needs to be an element of discretion; the parents…’

 

‘Yeah. The first meeting’s on Friday if you wanna come.’

 

‘I don’t, but thank you.’

 

‘Are you sure?’

 

‘Yes.’ Charles says abruptly, forcing the least convincing smile that Raven has ever seen in her life.

 

‘For God’s sake, Charles. I’m not suggesting you ride off into the sunset with Erik, just stop lying to yourself.’

 

‘If any of the youngsters come to me regarding their sexuality I’ll be sure to send them along.’ Charles presses his lips together and waits for her to leave.

 

‘Okay. Sure.’ Raven storms out of the office. She’s sick to death of discretion. By the time she gets home her mood has lightened because Irene is there to greet her. They talk it through over vegetable stew at the kitchen table.

 

‘Who does Charles have to come to home to?’ Irene says, ‘You should try and be more sympathetic.’

 

‘I don’t know how I can help him.’ Raven tells her.

 

 

**II**

 

 

At first it’s just Jean-Paul, Raven and Peter, but soon enough the kids start to join them. The youngest is twelve. They’re all so relieved to discover that they’re not alone, to be able to voice their hopes and fears. Once Raven helped avert a global apocalypse, but this feels like the most significant thing she’s ever done.

 

 

**1990**

 

 

The mansion is quiet, as it always it in the early afternoon, and Charles has finished his work for the day. Feeling nostalgic, he decides to pay a visit to the storage room. It’s stacked with old furniture and various bits that survived the explosion more or less in tact. There’s a picture of Raven in a broken frame lying on the floor. He grips the armrest as he reaches down to pick it up. Charles smiles. She looks so young, so serious. He longs for the summers they spent together as children, climbing trees and playing pretend. Everything was so much simpler, then.

 

The new mansion was built on the footprint of the old. Very little has been changed from the original blueprint, bar the addition of apartments for the X-Men and an elevator for Charles. This room is identical the original; it’s even used for the same purpose. Charles closes his eyes and wraps himself in the ghost of the old room: the peeling, ancient wall paper, layers of dirt and dust, the sash window with ivy creeping through its frame. His mind wanders to Jonas Graymalkin and the centuries that stand between them. Did he steal secret, forbidden kisses in this room, when no one was looking?

 

Is this the room where he died gasping?

 

Jonas was a mutant, and he was gay. He had dared to live his truth in a dangerous and frightening time, and he had died for it. His father served two paltry years of hard labour for the murder of his son, after which he returned home to his wife and fathered another son, who continued an unbroken chain of sons and daughters that would end with Charles. The story is a secret shame, a skeleton that has gathered dust in the family closet for some two hundred years.

 

He recalls conversations he’s had with Raven, who wears her truth like armour, and Peter, who continues to struggle with his own. A conversation he once tried to have with Erik. Charles’ truth remains unspoken. Never acted upon.

 

Although, he doesn’t hide it as well as he used to.

 

 

**1991**

 

 

Raven calls an emergency meeting in the TV room. Wreaths and bouquets stack up against the wrought iron gates on the news as the presenter tells them what they already know. Sat on the arm of the couch, she watches the room. Some of the kids look like they’ve been crying.

 

‘Okay, you all know what they’re going to write about him, and what they’ll say. We’re all gonna hear things we find upsetting in the next couple of weeks. We need to help each other get through it.’ Raven turns the television off, ‘Does anyone have any thoughts they’d like to share?’

 

Peter raises his hand.

 

‘Go ahead, Pete.’

 

‘I’m pretty bummed out… devastated, actually. Freddie’s music was, like… it meant a lot, especially when I was finding it hard to accept myself. I guess it made me feel less alone.’

 

Raven nods, ‘It meant a lot to see someone like me in the public eye.’

 

‘I’ve lost friends to it.’ Peter adds.

 

‘Me, too.’ Jean-Paul says. ‘Too many.’

 

‘I just love his music so much,’ One of the girls says, ‘I can’t believe there won’t be any more.’

 

A murmur of agreement.

 

‘All of the teachers and the X-Men are here if you need to talk; me, Pete and Jean-Paul in particular.’ Raven tells the kids, ‘Pete and Jean, I’m here for you guys, too.’

 

 

By the time they’re done talking the sun is going down. Peter needs to get out of the house, so he puts his Walkman on and goes for a walk in the woods. It’s been raining, and the smell of wood, earth and rotting leaves is fresh and heady in the air. The wind chill bites his face and makes his eyes stream, but it gets him out of his head.

 

‘ _Ooh yes I'm the great pretender_  
_Just laughing and gay like a clown_  
_I seem to be what I'm not_ _  
__I'm wearing my heart like a crown’_

 

Every day of his life he’s a great pretender to the parents and most of the kids, to his mother, but out here, amongst the white pine and the scarlet oak, he’s just Peter.

 

 

**1992**

 

 

‘I’ve got it.’ Jean-Paul tells them. He doesn’t need to say what ‘it’ is. Raven and Peter hold him tight. There is nothing to say.

 

 

**1995**

 

 

Jean-Paul starts a new treatment. In a matter of months he’s put on weight and the rattle in his lungs has cleared up. He’s going to be okay.

 

HIV is no longer a death sentence, but for Matthias and Ralph and Jon, and thousands upon thousands like them, it comes too late.

 

 

**1996**

 

 

One of the younger kids stops Raven in the hallway and asks her why she lives with Irene, so she tells him. From then on she tells the truth to anyone who asks. It feels like stepping out into spring sunshine after a long, dark winter behind drawn curtains and closed doors. Never again will she introduce Irene as her ‘housemate’. Not to anyone. No matter what.

 

 

**1997**

 

 

It only took Peter eleven years to tell Erik that he was his son, so it figures that it takes him nearly a decade and a half more to come out to him. It happens spontaneously at his father’s apartment, at the table, where a lot of important things seem to happen. Erik has started the washing up and Peter has the cat mug in front of him; by now the transfer has mostly worn off and there’s a chip in the handle, but he’s still fond of it.

 

‘It’s been a while since I’ve had you and Jean to dinner.’ Erik muses, as he clatters around in the sink.

 

‘Sure, Dad. When were you thinking?’

 

‘How about Friday?’

 

‘Oh—I can’t.’ Peter says. He finishes his tea. And then, he finally does it: ‘I’ve got LGBT club.’

 

‘Alright.’ Erik says, carrying on with the washing up.

 

‘It’s really important for the kids, so…’

 

‘Yes, it sounds very important.’ Erik draws a breath, as if he’s about to say something more. But he doesn’t. He grabs the cat mug, now empty, from the table and puts it in the sink. He dries his hands on a tea towel.

 

Peter twists around to face him. ‘So, uh, LGBT stands for…’

 

‘I’ve known Raven for most of my adult life, I know what it stands for.’

 

Peter gets that look in his eyes that he gets when he’s about to make a run for it. He gets up and starts moving towards the door. ‘Also I’m the “B” niceseeingyou…’

 

‘Don’t run! Please.’ Erik holds his hands out, plaintively.

 

Peter rocks back on his heels and does his best to stay slow. Suddenly, his face feels too hot. ‘Okay.’

 

‘You _are_ okay, exactly as you are.’ Erik pulls Peter into a hug. ‘I’m so sorry, I should have told you that years ago.’

 

Peter rests his cheek on his father’s shoulder. ‘I wanted you to ask.’

 

‘And I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the courage…’

 

‘There was this guy I was sort of with, but I just couldn’t and he died of AIDS.’

 

‘I’m so sorry. Was it Jon?’

 

‘No, Jon was with him after me. His name was Ralph.’

 

‘I’m sorry. How terrible it must have been for you to loose them both like that...’

 

‘It was so hard and I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t...’

 

Erik’s secret burns inside him like hot coal and threatens to spill out. He’s never said it aloud, not to anyone. ‘I know,’ He says instead, ‘I know.’

 

 

**2000**

 

 

Alaska. Mid February. Charles sends Ororo and Jean to pick up a mutant who calls himself the Wolverine. Logan doesn’t want trust them at first, but agrees to come back to the mansion for one reason alone: the young mutant girl he has in tow. Her name is Marie, and she is terrified of herself; when she touches people they get hurt.

 

On the plane journey back to New York Jean shares with Marie the struggles she had with her own powers when they first revealed themselves. Marie tries to imagine that the possibility exists for her, too, but it seems impossible. Right now all she wants is a hug, but her next hug could be years away.

 

They leave her to settle into her new room, although there isn’t much for her to do: all she has is her backpack and Logan’s dog tags.

 

There’s a school brochure on the bedside cabinet, so she starts idly flips through it to pass the time. She stops on a page with a yellow background. And sits down. And reads the text with excitement:

 

_ LGBT Students _

 

_• Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters provides a safe, welcoming environment for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender students._

 

_• Fully trained staff deliver evidence-based, age appropriate sexual health and relationship education._

 

_ Club _

 

_• The club was founded 1989 by Raven Darkholme and Peter Maximoff, who continue to provide mentoring and support for LGBT students._

 

That night Marie is so excited she can hardly sleep.

 

She meets Peter for the first time in her first sports lesson, out on the playing field. He’s a charming, energetic man in his forties, and she likes him immediately. He tells that they’re going to be playing soccer, today.

 

Marie puts her hand up.

 

‘Yep, new kid?’ Peter says.

 

‘I can’t play. I don’t want to hurt anybody.’ She explains, nervously.

 

‘Soccer isn’t a contact sport.’ Peter throws that ball and Marie catches it without thinking. ‘Do you know the rules?’

 

‘I can’t say that I do.’

 

‘Bobby, would you care to explain? Extra points if you do it in a British accent.’

 

Much to Marie’s disappointment, Bobby doesn’t do an accent. He’s friendly and patient, even though Marie struggles (she’s always been bad at sports).

 

When the lesson is over she plucks up the courage to ask Peter about the club.

 

‘Every Friday, seven pm, in the common room.’ He tells her, with an easy smile.

 

‘Cool. I’m not exactly sure about, well, I’m not sure.’

 

‘It’s alright, kiddo, I was questioning, when I was your age. You’re more than welcome to come along.’ He pats her on the back and promptly disappears. Marie wonders if he’s a teleporter.

 

 

Marie goes to the club. She settles into school, starts going out with Bobby. She doesn’t come out to everyone until long after they’ve stopped dating. Neither does he.

 

 

**2004**

 

 

Marie drags Raven and Peter into the common room with a huge grin on her face.

 

‘I’ve got something to show you!’ She says, excitedly, ‘First things first—may I have a volunteer?’

 

Peter puts his hand up.

 

Marie takes a glove off. ‘Give me your hand.’

 

‘Okay, but if you put me in a coma my Mom’s gonna be so mad.’ Peter extends his hand to Marie. She takes it. He feels absolutely fine. ‘Well, damn—I told you you’d figure it out!’

 

‘It’s weird; as soon as I came out everything changed. I can’t touch people for long, but it’s so, so much better. Oh, and…’ in an instant Marie is at the door. Only Peter’s eyes can perceive the speed of her movement. His face lights up, immediately.

 

‘Holy shit, Marie, this is awesome! Finally I have a running buddy!’

 

Peter speeds up. So does Marie. He takes her hand andthey run through New York and across the ocean. The water feels almost solid underfoot. Marie has to squint to stop the droplets and particles in the air from getting in her eyes. Scoters sit, motionless, on the surface of the water and gulls hang, motionless in the air above them. Peter can’t stop grinning. Marie feels like she’s flying.

 

 

**2012**

 

 

Marya Maximoff can’t do much these days, besides staring out of the window. Some days she refuses to talk. Or is unable. Peter continues to visit her, and it keeps getting harder. Today, she ignores him. He searches her face for a sign of recognition. There is none. He knows if he tries to make her understand who he is she’ll only get upset. ‘Hey uh, Marya, I thought you could use some company.’ He says to her.

 

Marya shrugs, ‘the twins’ll be home soon; I should get dinner on… Where’s Nancy?’

 

‘Probably in her room.’

 

‘Probably.’ Marya stares out at the lawn and gets distracted by the cardinal washing itself in the birdbath. Water droplets roll around on its feather and spray into the air as it flutters its wings. She soon looses interest.

 

‘Nancy is a good girl.’ Peter says, because he can’t think of anything else.

 

‘No thanks to me. Peter looks after her more than I do.’

 

‘Well, I think he and Nancy really appreciate how hard you work to put food on the table.’

 

Marya snorts. ‘I think my son is gay.’

 

The statement catches Peter off-guard. He scrambles for words, ‘What the, um, why do you say that?’

 

‘When I was coming home from work the other day I saw a young man leave the house. He had one of those moustaches, and Peter’s never even mentioned him.’

 

‘Oh. What do you think, about that?’

 

Marya shakes her head. Her eyes are glassy. ‘I don’t want him hanging around in those awful bars, catching God knows what. It’s no way to live.’

 

‘The closet’s no place to live.’

 

‘I don’t know which is worse.’

 

‘I do.’ He says, with certainty.

 

Marya blinks, ‘What is that red thing?’

 

‘It’s a cardinal, Mom. Wanda’s favourite bird.’

 

‘Huh. So it is.’

 

Marya peers at the bird until she forgets its there.

 

 

The next time Peter sees his mother she’s forgotten about Nancy. She won’t let him touch her. Eventually, she forgets about Peter and Wanda, too. She starts crying for her own mother, which is the worse thing of all.

 

The call finally comes in July at 2 o’clock in the morning. Peter doesn’t cry, but Jean holds him through the night, anyway.

 

 

**2015**

 

 

Raven and Irene are the first same-sex mutant couple in New York County to marry under the Supreme Court ruling. They have an intimate ceremony at a local registry office with Kurt and his family and Irene’s sister at their side. By now Raven’s hair has softened to a brassy blonde, so she morphs a dress to match its hue. Irene wears ashen-grey dress to match the colour of her own.

 

They meet the cameras outside, together. Raven addresses them with a fearless look and flame in her eyes: 'Queer, mutant and proud!’

 

 

**2017**

 

 

Today is the day, Bobby decides, that he’s finally going to come out. After doing the grocery shopping he makes up his mind to tell the first person he sees, which happens to be Peter. He finds him half asleep in a sun lounger on the lawn, an icebox full of soft drinks by his side. His face has gone a little red from the sun.

 

‘Hi Pete,’ Bobby says, clearing his throat. Nervousness and excitement almost throws him off track. ‘So, um… I’m gay.’

 

Peter takes his sunglasses off and squints at the younger man, ‘Bobbo, are you coming out to me?’

 

‘I think I am!’

 

‘Well, damn! Good for you!’ Peter offers Bobby a fist bump.

 

‘I can’t believe I finally said it out loud.’ Bobby says, breathlessly.

 

‘Wait a second, I’ve got something for you,’ Peter roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pin. He holds it out to Bobby.

 

Bobby takes it and turns it over in hands. A rainbow X. He’s seen ones like this pinned to rucksacks and jackets around the school. His heart races.

 

‘You have to wear it every day for the rest of your life.’ Peter tells him.

 

‘Thanks, I will.’

 

A car trundles up the driveway and slips into the underground car park. The driver waves as she passes them.

 

Bobby frowns. ‘Holy shit, is that Marie?’ He can’t remember the last time he saw her.

 

‘Probably. She said she was coming today.’

 

‘Huh.’

 

Marie joins them a few minutes later.

 

‘Bobby, oh my God! How’s it going? ’ She says, giving him a light hug.

 

‘Gay, you?’

 

Marie looks faintly surprised, ‘Pretty good. Bi, myself.’

 

‘Same,’ Peter said, offering her a bottle of Coke, ‘I can’t remember if I gave you a pin last time I saw you.’

 

‘I don’t think you did.’

 

Peter gives her a blue, pink and purple X, and she pins it onto her blazer. ‘You’re here for the LGBT alum meet up, right?’

 

‘Of course! This coke is a little warm—Bobby, can you…’

 

Bobby blows across neck of Marie’s Coke until the bubbles freeze. She swigs it, gratefully, enjoying the texture.

 

‘I hope you’re coming tonight.’ Marie says to Bobby.

 

‘I guess so.’

 

‘You guess so?’

 

‘Yes. Yes I will certainly be coming!’

 

‘Awesome!... I saw the wedding pics on Instagram.’ Marie says to Peter, ‘Was it lovely?’

 

‘It was. Jean was my best woman and the girls were bridesmaids. It was really special.’

 

‘I’m so glad you and Jean are on good terms.’

 

‘Getting divorced doesn’t mean you stop caring about each other. I’ll always adore her, and she’ll always bug me about wearing sunscreen.’

 

‘ _Are_ you wearing sunscreen?’

 

‘Ha—no!’

 

Marie laughs and shakes her head, ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your husband; what’s he like?’

 

‘A total sweetheart. The girls adore him, which is the most important thing... You know, when I was a tiny baby queer back in the eighties I’d never’ve imagined any of this...marrying the man of my dreams and just fuckin’...’ Peter waves his hand, excitedly, and turns his attention to Bobby, ‘living a regular life. It’s crazy. The life you’re gonna have, Bob, it’s a million times better than staying in the closet.’

 

‘It is, so much better.’ Marie agrees, smiling broadly.

 

‘I still don’t know what I’m gonna say to Mom and Dad.’ Bobby says.

 

‘It’s super hard coming out to parents;' Peter says sympathetically, 'the closest I ever got with Mom was letting her think I was gay... If it all goes to shit come back to mine—I’ll console you with pizza and _Sense8_.’

 

‘Thanks, Pete. I really appreciate it.’

 

Peter offers him another fist bump. ‘Anytime, kid. Us queer mutants gotta have each other’s backs, am I right?’

 

‘Yeah. We do.’ Bobby can’t stop himself smiling. He feels as light as a feather.

 

 

Erik decides to meet Charles out in the garden whilst he waits for the grandchildren to finish school. He greets him like an old friend, even though it’s too simple a term to describe what they are to one another.

 

He can tell by the expression on Charles’ face that he wants to say something. ‘Alright, Professor, what is it?’ Erik asks him.

 

Charles fidgets in his chair, ‘Do you think, if things had been different… we might’ve…’ He doesn’t finish the sentence. They’ve never has this conversation all the way through, before, but it’s always been there, the subtext simmering under every sentence they’ve ever spoken to one another.

 

Erik clasps his hands behind his back. ‘They were the way they were, Charles. There’s nothing you or I could have done about it.’

 

‘But things _did_ change.’

 

‘For the young, not for us. You know how it would’ve gone: I’d have worn a pink triangle instead of a yellow star… and you—your wealth might have protectedyou for a while, but not indefinitely.’

 

‘I know.’ Charles pauses for thought, ‘Raven was brave to live the way she did.’

 

‘She was always the strongest, out of all of us... and just because we can get married now, it doesn’t mean that it would be easy.’

 

‘I know. But we could try, if you wanted to.’

 

Erik chuckles, ‘Peter would be delighted, I’m sure.’

 

‘Did you tell him, in the end?’

 

‘No. Sometimes I think he might have guessed.’

 

‘You should tell him. The ball’s in your court, Erik.’ Charles touches his old friend’s arm and goes back inside.

 

Erik saunters until he finds himself beneath of one of the ancient trees that throw their shade across the lawn. Lately, he’s started to feel his age; arthritis has left his fingers crooked and stiff, and his powers aren’t what they were even a few years ago. Children pour out of the doors and into the sunlight; in a matter of minutes a game of Frisbee is already underway. He watches out for Wendy and Lucy; if they’re already outside they’re going much too fast for him to see. They get more and more like their parents every day. More powerful, too. He wonders what the next few years will have in store for them and the rest of mutantkind. The future has never seemed more uncertain.

 

Not far from the mansion, he can see Bobby, Peter and Marie talking to one another. They look so relaxed, so at ease.

 

Perhaps Charles is right, and they could try, after all this time.

 

Perhaps he could talk to Peter. Each time they’ve given up a secret it’s drawn them closer. This is Erik’s final secret. One that’s he’s never spoken about candidly to anyone, not even Charles. Not even Raven, who knows the truth in spite of his silence.

 

Not even Madga.

 

He still thinks of her every day.

 

The girls appear, seemingly out of nowhere, beside Peter. Wendy starts rooting around the icebox whilst Lucy kisses Peter on the cheek.

 

Erik smiles. He loves them all, so much. 

Perhaps he will tell him.

 

Perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcome!
> 
> Fic Spotify playlist:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/jolinare/playlist/18BHZNq3UHgErKRYDWMQSr?si=3WA6F_vARSmJDVEFOkvdfw
> 
> Bibliography: 
> 
>  
> 
> Rouvere. (2017). LGBT, Mutant and Proud. https://twitter.com/lgbtkenobi/status/894650312954433538
> 
> Rent—Look Pretty And Do As Little As Possible: A Video Essay. (2017). Lindsay Ellis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0qfFbtIj5w
> 
> Gibson, Andrea. (2008). I Do. Pole Dancing To Gospels Hymns. Write Bloody Publishing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8oGYyLDxFI
> 
> The Freddie Mercury Story: Who Wants To Live Forever?, (2017). dir. Rudi Dolezal and Hannes Rossacher. Channel 5 
> 
> The History of AIDS. Avert. https://www.avert.org/professionals/history-hiv-aids/overview
> 
> Westervelt, Eric. (April 17, 2017). ACT UP At 30: Reinvigorated For Trump Fight. NPR. http://www.npr.org/2017/04/17/522726303/act-up-at-30-reinvigorated-for-trump-fight


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